


We're not that different, you and I

by majmu



Series: Blasphemy [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bath Sex, Frottage, M/M, Master/Servant, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22214293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majmu/pseuds/majmu
Summary: “Undress me”, Erasmus said. His voice rasped slightly, and maybe that was the reason he had commanded the other servants away from the room.
Relationships: Erasmus (Namarikonda)/Kjartan (majmu)
Series: Blasphemy [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574434
Kudos: 7





	We're not that different, you and I

**Author's Note:**

> [Erasmus](https://refsheet.net/Namarikonda/erasmus)   
>  [Kjartan](https://refsheet.net/majmu/Kjartan)

Days like these were far from the usual.

Kjartan felt how his throat was screaming, dried up from labored breathing almost to the point of hyperventilation at times. If he leaned on his toes, his legs trembled like a newborn foal's. Only his hands were steady as he steadied himself against a wall. He felt disgusting.

Like by a miracle, their timing wasn't completely off. Hooves banged against the empty cobblestone street, and from the shadows came a gray, sweaty horse with a tired rider on it. Erasmus had a hood on, but strands of hair were hanging on his face, making him easy for Kjartan to recognize.

Erasmus stopped the horse next to Kjartan, eyeing their surroundings restlessly. His face glistened with sweat.

Kjartan moved from leaning against the wall to leaning on the horse, and pushed himself up. Erasmus grabbed onto his clothes, helping him hoist himself all the way behind the saddle. Then they were off, again. The horse was shaking, and Kjartan felt bad for it.

Erasmus hissed when Kjartan started coughing, but didn't say anything proper. He probably knew that this wasn't something he could stop without trying to choke to death. He needed water to moisten his throat back up, but they didn’t have any. He felt faint but kept forcing himself to breathe between the coughs, until enough slime dislodged into his throat to give him temporary relief.

They arrived at Erasmus' home while it was still dark, and Kjartan slid down as soon as Erasmus slowed down enough. He stumbled, falling to his knees when his legs didn’t support him. He was surprised, and slowly crawled back up to his feet. Shaky.

Someone had come to take the horse, but Erasmus was still holding on to the saddle, having jumped down but not moved from there. He was staring at Kjartan, as if his bodyguard's inability to walk properly made the same possibility to his own abilities come to his mind.

But then he stepped away, and even if he was clearly stiff and painful, he could walk. He moved to walk to the side door, and Kjartan followed slowly. 

He heard Erasmus command a maid to draw baths, and then he headed upstairs. Kjartan leaned against the railing, and a maid came to him with a glass of water. He took it and drank, sloshing it around in his mouth and throat to get rid of the itchiness. Then he sat down on the floor, putting the glass down next to him and starting to stretch his limbs. He would not be able to get out of bed for days if he didn’t do this now. Also, he didn’t want to walk up the stairs. He knew he was going to have to, but he enjoyed this while it lasted.

He felt faint, the world swimming around him now that he was finally just staying in place. His head felt like it was still riding on horseback. Crawling through the underbush and darting through city streets. Riding, falling, running.

After a few minutes, he heard murmuring upstairs, and was fairly sure that it was Erasmus telling a servant to go fetch Kjartan. He sighed and got up slowly, making eye contact with the manservant walking down the stairs. He looked startled, and bowed his head slightly. ‘This way’, he murmured, setting his pace so that Kjartan didn’t have to walk too fast up the stairs. 

They were heading to Erasmus’ bathing room, Kjartan knew already. He’d been there before. 

The door was opened for him, but the servant didn’t look inside or at Kjartan. Kjartan stepped inside, and the door closed.

Erasmus was sitting on the edge of a tub, hair slightly more in shape but still very messy compared to usual. He was still mostly clothed, his undershirt hanging open and showing skin where his undressing has been interrupted. He looked tough and composed, but Kjartan had seen what he looked like when he was truly in a powerful state. Now? He was exhausted. 

They both were.

Kjartan walked up to him, and fell to his knees in front of him. Erasmus let him rest his forehead on his knee, and put his hand in his hair in return. It was a weird moment of stillness, both their pulses still hammering in their throats. Near death experiences and just plain running did that to you.

“Undress me”, Erasmus said. His voice rasped slightly, and maybe that was the reason he had commanded the other servants away from the room.

Kjartan sighed, lifted his head up and looked at Erasmus. Then he reached to unbutton the shirt the rest of the way down, fingers clumsy but probably the most capable part of his body right now. When he looked to the side, he could see the way Erasmus’ own hand was squeezing the edge of the tub. The hand still in his hair was stiff. Kjartan thought he felt it shake slightly.

Gripping the reins hard for hours had probably done its job. 

Kjartan tugged the hem of the shirt from the pants, before he started unlacing those. Erasmus took the shirt off slowly, letting it fall to the floor next to them. It was damp from sweat, just like every piece of their clothing. 

When he was done with unlacing, Erasmus stood up. Kjartan tugged his clothes down, momentarily leaning to kiss Erasmus’ bare thigh. Erasmus smacked him, but it didn’t have any strength behind it. Whether is was because he just didn’t have it in him or if he didn’t really mind, it was hard to say. 

Thought Kjartan was fairly sure he would have smacked him hard if he could, no matter if he minded it or not. 

Erasmus stepped out of his clothes, climbing into the filled tub behind him. Kjartan took the clothes and put them to the side, still kneeling down. He felt like he didn’t have to power to get up this time. 

So he didn’t.

He went down, settling on his back on the cold tiled floor and feeling his own pulse hammering in his neck. It wasn’t as fast, but it felt labored. Just like his breathing. 

He was going to crash soon, he knew. The adrenaline was leaving his body. He was running on fumes and stubbornness. 

He had closed his eyes at some point, and when he opened them again, Erasmus was looking at him over the edge of the tub. Then he poured a pail of warm water down, it splashing on and pooling under and around Kjartan. He just closed his eyes, but didn’t move even when his clothes were even more soaked that before.

“Get up and in the tub”, Erasmus said, unimpressed. Maybe slightly worried. That part might have been just in Kjartan’s mind.

The words themself were a surprise, though. 

Slowly, like a mortally wounded animal, he got up. He was not mortally wounded, of course. Just bruised and ran ragged. He took off his leather gear, starting to become more aware of how much his joints ached. He settled the gear more to the side, away from where the water could reach on the floor. He would have to oil and repair them before he slept, he knew. He just wished he didn’t.

Unclothed, Kjartan stood still for a while. He was processing. Then he turned to the tub, and again Erasmus was staring at him. This time leaning his chin on his own hand against the side, now clearly annoyed. He tapped the edge of the tub.

“Brain damage?” he asked.

Kjartan shook his head, finally walking to the tub. His foot slid maybe a millimeter on the wet floor, but that was enough to terrify him into very soft and careful steps. Erasmus moved his legs out of the way, which made Kjartan relieved in the knowledge that he didn’t misunderstand this whole thing again. Well, there weren’t many other choices, as this was the only tub in use in the room.

The water felt hot, even though Kjartan knew it wasn’t more than comfortably warm. He sunk in, carefully avoiding touching Erasmus with his feet, and settled with his head tilted against the edge of the tub. He blinked tiredly, but appreciated the feeling of water washing away the itchy layer of sweat on his skin. He reached to scratch his back, and then splashed his face.

The tub was large, but when Erasmus straightened his leg, his foot settled on Kjartan’s stomach. Two adult men submerged to their shoulders took a lot of room, it turns out. 

Usually this type of thing would get Kjartan going, but this time he only felt a slight twitch down there.

Erasmus had the pail, and pushed it under the water enough to fill it again. Then he almost lifted it, until he thought otherwise and slid it to Kjartan over the top of the water. Kjartan straightened up and lifted his hands to grab it, and figured what Erasmus wanted before he even said anything. 

“Pour it on me.”

His hands. He couldn’t do it himself, probably. Not that he usually did - there were servants for that. Servants that weren’t here. 

Kjartan sat up, and Erasmus turned his back to him. One hand shading Erasmus’ face from most of the water, Kjartan poured it. Then, automatically, he touched the hair. Pulled it back, carded his fingers through it. Erasmus stiffened, and Kjartan stopped. Neither said anything, though. 

There was a soap on the side, and Erasmus rubbed it in his hands before he started massaging it into his hair. Kjartan looked at the moles on his back, on his shoulders. Back of his neck. He didn’t feel like going tonight, but he felt like kissing them. He didn’t, of course. Instead he filled the pail and wet his own hair.

Kjartan took his hair metals off, and opened his braids carefully. When he had them open, he reached for the soap. Leaning over Erasmus’ shoulder, he saw the neutral half lidded look he got from the corner of his eye. Most of the smell of sweat was gone, and there was just the soap, wet leather and Erasmus. When he pulled back, his nose scraped against Erasmus’ ear. Erasmus tilted his head away. 

Kjartan soaped up his hands and hair, ripping off the twine keeping his hair up. 

Erasmus dipped his head underwater, rinsing most of the soap by doing that. Kjartan grabbed the pail and filled it again, washing away the rest as soon as Erasmus let him.

Then Erasmus turned around, not offering his back for Kjartan to stare at when it wasn’t necessary. 

Kjartan wanted to press him against the side of the tub and entangle their limbs while kissing the side of his neck.

He filled the pail and poured it over his head. He had to do it a few times to get the soap out.

When he rubbed the water off his face, he felt the water shifting around him. Erasmus’ skin brushed against his and suddenly he was close, eyebrows raised and expression unreadable as always. His hand moved against Kjartan’s thigh, and he pressed it hard with his thumb. Kjartan gasped and automatically tried to pull his leg away, but there was no room to move back. 

The harsh press turned into a massaging motion, soothing the tender muscle. Kjartan stared at Erasmus, expecting nothing and everything.

“Turn around”, Erasmus whispered, and it was weird because he never whispered, and Kjartan didn’t hesitate. With his back to Erasmus, he could feel his master moving closer and pressing him down from his upper back. He went down as deep as he could, settling his chin to rest on the side so he wouldn’t need to hold himself up. 

Erasmus moved over him, all warm muscle and tired cardinal, and traced his fingers on Kjartan’s side. Then his stomach. Kjartan shuddered.

It was like Erasmus was looking for his sensitive spots, going over his muscles and bruised spots and pressing and rubbing until Kjartan gasped. Erasmus’ breath ghosted over Kjartan’s nape where his hair parted. 

Then he was closer, his breath literally on him, and he slowly bit down on the skin of Kjartan’s neck. Kjartan’s eyes rolled back and he stopped breathing, all thoughts of  _ ‘I don’t really feel like I can do anything tonight’ _ going out the window. He whined and pressed back up against Erasmus. 

Erasmus moved one of his hands back, and even when he didn’t see or feel anything more than the movement of water, he knew that Erasmus was touching himself. He should be touching himself against Kjartan, to be perfectly frank. 

“Move”, Erasmus said suddenly, and Kjartan moved closer to the end and lifted his arms up on the side of the tub. Erasmus followed after him, pressed against his back (he could feel him against him) and almost loomed over Kjartan. His chest pressed against Kjartan’s upper back, and his other arm settled next to Kjartan’s on the edge. But it was between Kjartan’s arms, pressed against his neck, keeping him in place with an almost half hug against the tub wall. 

Kjartan leaned against his bicep and groaned when he felt Erasmus grind against him. Erasmus was too high up to slide between his cheeks, and that was maybe the biggest loss of the day. But his free hand slid down there, pressing and hooking his fingers. Kjartan spread his thighs and drooled on Erasmus’ skin, breathing with his mouth open. 

Kjartan could only twitch and pant like this, unless he wanted to try and wrestle Erasmus from on top of him. His toes curled and he knew that this was probably something Erasmus needed again. Control.

He was getting it. 

Erasmus leaned to bite his ear gently, shoving another finger in. Kjartan breathed in so fast he almost choked on it.

They wouldn’t be able to do that here, in the water. But he just let Erasmus unravel him, muscles aching and dick leaking into the bath water. Erasmus wasn’t thrusting against him anymore, just focused on wrecking him for now.

He didn’t realize it happened until the edges of his sight went blurry and he couldn’t breathe, but Erasmus did a very purposeful movement with his hand and he came. His whole body seemed to tense and then tremble, feeling like he came too hard, too fast. There was electricity running through his hips. 

Erasmus didn’t stop before Kjartan tried to pull away, sensitive to the fingers probing for more pleasure out of him. He pulled the fingers out, letting Kjartan out of the tight hold and instead lifting his hips to press against him. 

Kjartan was almost ready to jump out, but Erasmus didn’t try pushing in and instead rubbed against him and between his cheeks. He was fully hard.

Kjartan moved one of his hands back, pressing it over Erasmus’ dick to have it press against his skin harder. Erasmus grabbed his hips and started to move faster, while Kjartan closed his eyes and listened to his breathing and the sloshing of the water.

They both came fast, Erasmus stuttering to a stop and leaning his forehead against Kjartan’s nape. Then he bit him again, but it was more like tasting his skin and the water on it. Slow, the flesh slipping from between his teeth before he could cause any real damage. 

Erasmus leaned back and returned to where he had been before on the other side of the tub. Kjartan kept his eyes closed, pillowing his face against his forearms on the tub’s edge. He felt like he could doze off. 

His body ached, but his muscles were relaxed and the water still warm. Erasmus’ sole brushed against his calf when he straightened himself.

When Kjartan looked back, Erasmus too had his eyes closed. 


End file.
